I have written about this before, the strange and expanding nature of my very large house. It starts with a cluster of not very large rooms. Like these two, with a boy standing on the seam between them.
And like this one—
the one we build lately to handle the equally expanding family. From this center, out go the hallways, some grassy ways, some broad ones, carpeted with asphalt and cement. One short grassy one leads to the loft where the tools and the water and the Christmas things are stored. A longer asphalt one leads to the wing that houses another cluster of rooms that belong to Cam and his family. Chaz’ rooms are just across the hall from Cam’s. You pass Rachel’s rooms on the way to these. Thankfully, there are bathrooms all along the way.
But the longest hall leads between sunrise and sunset. At the end of it are the rooms of my father. Halfway along it is this kitchen:
This is the part of my house where my daughter lives, with her family.
I think I became surprised, as I grew past being a child, then past being the mother of children, then as a person with beloved friends, at the need for such a large house. But there it is. And I am astonished at the beauty in this place. But going from rooms to rooms makes me just a tiny bit tired sometimes.
What follows is just a mess of images of last week’s Play With Ginna time – split between kitchens.
Our house is a perfect parade route. You can walk your pets around and around in eternal circles
Sand is very serious about walking his worm. He did it for a good some twenty minutes. And to his credit, Max was with him most of the time.
Next day after church, the family dinner. Only Chaz was missing – because she was sick.
I love these shots. They look like lots of conversation.
I’m not sure what was going through this little mind.
Sand is very interested in dinner.
And mom doesn’t move fast enough.
The dogs, not interested in conversation, wait for us to get silly and drop things.
We retire into the LL for running and talking –
and music.
And science. Sand was learning how to slide. That involves physics.
Scooter is also interested in physics.
Most of the adults are more interested in talking.
But not all of them.
This is the deep satisfaction of advanced motherhood: when your children really enjoy each other.
The founder of the feast.
Cam took a lot of these, proving to me that I had no idea how to run my own camera. I had suspected that for some time —
This is the story of one odd slide. Sand had pretty well gotten the knack. Then—he came down and just sort of – plopped. Just like this. I mean, not like this. This. And he simply stopped. So, after a moment, so did I. I just plopped and stopped. And there were the two of us.
And there we stayed.
For quite a few moments.
Then Sandy’d had enough. Gone, he was. But the nice moment had been noticed by another person—who decided plopping was worth a try. And there we were, a new plopped pair.
Later, this is all we would find of her: Boo locks protruding from a blanket. A whole new take on plopping.
Then the two cousins, realizing that no one had seen Tucker for a long, long time, went outside to call him. It took about fifteen minutes of this calling, during which time Tucker wisely stayed sitting on the hill in the back.
And in the end, Cam pretty much collapsed. Collecting images is hot work.
The next morning, before the sun knew we were awake, Gin and the boys and I were in the Prius (Is it on? Did you start the engine?) on our way back down south.
Two excellent travelers. One patient, the other pretty darn tired.
And here we are, in the place where my daughter opens her own bills.
And Sand reacquaints himself with his old digs.
This is the last bit. I kept forgetting to shoot Sand in his new hat. So I had to do it at the very end. On the way to the airport.
How stupid is it to have to fly from one side of your house to the other? One side of your heart to another. Or maybe you just leave a piece of it in several places. Wherever the truth lies, I can’t see myself settling into a small house for a long, long time.
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